


Edged In Lace

by Autobratty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Sex, Creampies, Fingering, Fluff, Inflation, Knotting, Lingerie, Love Confessions, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Spike Mods, Sticky, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), mild dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wing manages to weasel Drift into something new. Though at first apprehensive, Drift ends up fully enjoying himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edged In Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YeahDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YeahDragon/gifts).



“Wing, I don’t know about this…”

Drift was staring into a full-length mirror, all trussed up in lace and bows, with Wing at his side, grinning so wide his faceplates were probably going to crack. “Oh, hush, Drift. You look absolutely stunning.”

The speedster tugged at the garter belt around his waist, adjusting the frilly straps. “Where did you even get the idea for something like this, let alone find someone to make these…?” Wing’s grin turned sheepish, and as his mouth began to form a reply, Drift halted him with a raised hand. “You know what? On second thought, I don’t want to know. Just…” He paused, continuing to stare at his reflection, studying his frame helm-to-pede. He had light pink bows tied around his finials, and a white collar with a large pink bell dangling off of it that jingled when he moved. Around his waist he had something Wing had called a waist cincher: fabric that laced up at the front and back, lace-trimmed and pink and studded with tiny white beads and a big bow at the top of the front and one at the bottom of his lower back, the whole thing cinching his abdominal plating in a way that...wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. The garter belt, which’s straps reached down the fronts and backs of his thighs, clasping onto thick garter bands, was just as frou-frou as the rest of the getup. And lastly, a sheer pair of pink-and-white polkadot underwear with a slit at the bottom and lace around the edges that made him twitch when it brushed against his plating.

“...This is just weird.”

Wing laughed, the sound golden and pure, ringing through their shared apartment in the New Crystal City Citadel. He wrapped his arms around Drift’s waist, nuzzling his face into the ex-Decepticon’s neck, the bell tinkling from the slight jostling. “I know it’s an odd request. Which is why I appreciate it even more so that you agreed to it.” The jet pressed a chaste kiss to Drift’s shoulder before pulling back, his wings fluttering behind him excitedly. “Now, just give me a few kliks to get into mine!”

Drift grunted as Wing scurried off to the berthroom, finally averting his eyes from the mirror. This was too weird. The soft textiles and stiff lace were weird. Wing was weird. The whole situation, the whole city was weird. And yet, here he was in the midst of it all, willing and compliant, dressed up to please the very jet who’d trapped him here, who he’d come to appreciate and even love after months of being stuck underground and being under his command.

On Earth, they would’ve called it Stockholm Syndrome. Drift called it sheer stupidity.

Either way, when Wing stepped out of the berthroom, clad in similar garb to his own but in a pale sunshine-yellow, his wings spread and adorned with ribbons and pearls, and gave him a soft - almost shy - smile, he couldn’t really complain about how things had worked out.

His gaze traveling up and down the sinuous curves and planes of Wing’s airframe, resplendent in its adornments, his cooling fans kicked on, and he realized why Wing had a thing for this stuff. Something about the way it framed his body, accentuating its most attractive points, had Drift’s mouth hanging slightly ajar.

The knight blushed slightly, stepping in front of Drift, reaching out and sliding his fingers up the darker mech’s chassis until his arms were lazily draped over the his shoulders. Drift shivered, instantly wrapping his arms around Wing, his battered hands coming to gently rest at his lover’s lower back. Finding the loose tassels of a bow to play with, he smiled genuinely, resting his forehelm against Wing’s. “I hate to admit it, but you look fragging sexy in that.”

Wing grinned playfully. “Oh, you mean even more than usual?” He dodged Drift’s good-natured swat at his helm, tutting at him with mock disappointment. “Now, now,” he chided, “This is not sparring!” Drift snorted, pulling the jet closer to him. “I know that.” Wing chuckled, and Drift’s grin took on a darker edge. “While sparring and sword fighting might be your forté…” He leaned in close, huskily whispering into Wing’s audio, “...This is mine.”

The white mech shuddered as Drift ducked his head, mouthing down Wing’s neck cables, gently tugging on the collar with his teeth, the golden bell tinkling. When he bit down and started sucking on one of the jet’s neck cables, Wing let out a curt gasp. “Berth,” he murmured, trying to pull away slightly.

Though Drift remained attached to his lover, they made their way into the berthroom. When the knight climbed up onto the soft berth, the ex-Decepticon attempted to get on top of him, but the dextrous swordsmech had him on his back in a klik, legs straddling pelvic armor, bells jangling noisily.

Drift wriggled, trying to get out from underneath the other mech, his EM field giving a sharp pulse of distress at being restrained. “H-hey!” Wing shushed him as he thrashed helplessly, nuzzling his face into the speedster’s neck. “Hush, Drift,” he cooed soothingly, gently caressing Drift’s sides and abdomen. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He pulled back a little to look his charge in the eye. “You know that, don’t you?”

Drift’s attempts at escaping faltered, his processor now doing the struggling. After a brief pause, he glanced up at Wing, golden optics gazing down at him with earnest.

“Yes.”

Wing smiled that crooked half-grin of his, knowing and tender, and placed a soft kiss to Drift’s lips. “Good. Now,” he continued, pitching his voice lower and rubbing his chassis against Drift’s and revving his turbines, “without any further ado…would you like to get started?”

Drift let out a soft gasp, sliding his hands up Wing’s back to tug at his wings in response. The jet’s smile widened as he slowly unfurled his wings, reveling in the feathery touches of his lover. Just how Drift’s hands, hardened by millennia of doing things Wing could only imagine, were able to stroke over his plating so gently, he would never know.

Wing arched his back a little into the ministrations of his lover’s wandering hands, ducking his head down to kiss and nibble over neck wiring, occasionally tugging at the wires with his teeth. When Drift pinched a wingtip, he moaned into the other mech’s throat, and gave a hard suck to the cabling, sliding his tongue between the sensitive wires, causing Drift to hum in response.

“Wing…”

The jet paused, his mouth stilling against the speedster’s throat. Drift usually didn’t talk during their...sessions. He whispered softly into his neck cables, “Yeah?”

Drift cupped his lover’s chin, forcing Wing to look up at him, blazing blue optics gazing down into soft-edged golden ones. “I love you.”

Wing made a sort of strangled choking noise at the abrupt, unprecedented sentiment. It was unusual for Drift to show any sort of non-sexual affection at all, especially verbally - and though they’d been interfacing for several weeks now, and the knight had said the words several times - he had even gotten a “you too” out of Drift - but the mech had never actually…said it.

“I-I…”

With a good-natured snort, Drift nuzzled up into his neck cables, making his collar bell jingle softly. “What, don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind.” Wing was quick to respond this time, nearly cutting Drift off, holding him tighter. “No! No, I just…” He closed his eyes, burying his face into Drift’s splauder. “I love you, too. So, so much.” He heard a soft click, indicating that Drift’s panel had opened.

“Show me.”

A playful smile crept across Wing’s faceplates, and he pulled back, looking down at the beautiful mech spread beneath him.

“With pleasure.”

He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Drift’s helm crest, and then to each bow-adorned finial, before kissing a line down the mech’s chassis, smooth lip plates dancing across the Decepticon insignia on the speedster’s chest. The swordsmech nuzzled against Drift’s belly, burying his nose in the soft fabric of the cincher, purring contentedly. “I’d be happy to just stay like this forever,” he breathed, even as Drift shifted his hips in an attempt to dislodge the jet. “Yeah, well, my equipment has to protest to that,” he rumbled impatiently, and Wing laughed.

“Shush, Drift. Patience, remember?” Wing chided, sitting back onto his legs and ghosting his fingers down his lover’s sides. Drift squirmed a little, but more of a writhing in muted pleasure than impatience, now. The jet took advantage of the novelty of the ex-Decepticon’s frame, fully exposed and vulnerable, all covered in bows and lace, and he couldn’t help grinning like a fool. Drift had come such a long way - if someone had told either of them that a few short weeks later, they’d be...doing this, Wing would’ve laughed his aft off, and Drift probably would’ve torn out their vocalizer.

But not now. Now, Drift was reveling in the fact that someone was touching him just because they enjoyed seeing his face rapt with pleasure, because they thought he deserved it, because...they loved him. Someone loved Drift. It had been a long, long time since that had happened, and Drift had spoilt it with harsh words, an unyielding attitude, and always either being stark raving mad, wallowing in his own misery, or off in fantasyland riding out the high of a circuit booster. And then, before he had a chance to even appreciate what he had, it was snatched away from him.

He was determined to not let that happen again.

Drift reached out hesitantly, not used to initiating tender contact, brushing the backs of his servos across one of Wing’s audial flares, and the jet purred, slightly leaning into the gentle caress as he massaged Drift’s sides, slowly working his way down to his hips, and the speedster gasped when Wing’s fingertips reached his open panel.

“Wing…”

He wanted him, and Wing knew it. Sometimes it surprised Drift how much he wanted him - he’d never wanted anyone before, not in his life. Not like this...never like this. But now, as Wing leaned forward, fingers working into the transformation seams at his hips and nuzzling at his lacy panties, the sheen of fabric the only thing separating those clever lips from his panel, Drift’s newfound want had him unraveling at the speed of sound.

The speedster’s valve cover slid open, and Wing smiled, giving a grateful kiss to the inside of Drift’s thigh, thankful for his lover’s willingness to share this with him, despite his past horrors of others misuse of his valve. The knight wanted nothing more than to write over his lover’s history of abuse with the characters of pleasure, of happiness, of love. He poked a finger through the slit in the pink panties to trace a fingertip around the valve rim, and grinned inwardly at how much his lover was already turned on, listening to how he gasped and slightly canted his hips upwards. Audial flares fluttering, Wing rested his head on Drift’s thigh, lazily spreading lubricant across his sparkmate’s array, earning an impatient whine from the ex-Decepticon.

“If you...ngh...tease too much, I might rethink letting you do this,” he gasped, hips shifting up slightly more. Wing let out an airy laugh, his optics crinkling at the corners, and he leaned up to kiss one of Drift’s finials, tugging with his teeth at the bow tied around it.

“Alright, alright,” he whispered into the darker mech’s audio, then resting his helm against the other’s shoulder. He nuzzled Drift’s neck, easing a finger into his valve. “You’ve earned it.”

Drift gave a short gasp, slightly tilting his head to the side to open his neck up to the swordsmech’s yearning mouth, dentae pulling gently at his neck cables, kissing and nibbling lovingly as he slowly thrust his digit in and out of Drift. “Ohhh, Wing...that’s...ha. Wow.”

Smiling, Wing kissed up the side of Drift’s jaw, pressing his lips to his cheek. He used the pad of his thumb to rub his lover’s outer node through the lacy underwear, carefully sliding in another finger. He paid close attention to Drift’s moans, and where he was pressing when Drift was making the most noise. When his fingers rubbed against the upper left side of his valve, Drift writhed under him, sobbing and arching his back.

Wing gave a devilish grin, and tilted Drift’s chin to meet his gaze. Breathing heavily, smoldering blue optics burned into the swordmech’s steady golden gaze. He pressed his lips to Drift’s in the softest kiss imaginable, simultaneously sliding in another finger and jabbing all three up against that sensitive spot inside of Drift.

The ex-Decepticon cried out something that sounded suspiciously like Wing’s name, his valve clenching and rippling around the jet’s nimble fingers as he thrust through the overload, peppering kisses all over Drift’s face as he rode it out, grinding against his lover’s hand.

After the throes of overload had receded, Wing still lazily fingered Drift’s valve, curling and uncurling his digits and gently poking around inside the mesh lining, making sure the grounder was stretched enough to accommodate his spike.

“Wing,” Drift moaned, his valve tightening once more around his lover’s fingers. “I n-need…” He struggled to say what he wanted, what he needed, the words clogging his intake.

“Shhh,” the jet crooned, pulling his fingers from the clenching valve, slick with transfluid, and placed the hand on Drift’s hip. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say it.” Drift gave a little sigh of relief, and pulled Wing down into a tender kiss, expressing his gratitude. “I love you,” he breathed.

Wing smiled warmly, pulling back and settling atop Drift’s hips, trailing his digits down the ex-Decepticon’s abdomen, skimming his fingers over blazing metal plating and the soft firmness of the pastel colored cincher. He stopped briefly to tighten it, Drift moaning at the gentle squeeze it applied around his belly. Wing leaned down again to whisper inside his audio.

“Imagine how you’ll feel with this tight around your waist and my spike lodged deep in your valve. Even better,” he continued, murmuring as he hooked a finger into the seams at Drift’s hip, “imagine how you’ll feel when your tank is full of my transfluid, and it’s clamped tight around your belly as your plating tries to distend.”

Drift let out a shaky gasp, his hips twitching beneath Wing’s aft. The flier giggled softly, smoothing his fingers up and down his lover’s finials. “Ready?”

The grounder nodded emphatically, his bell collar jangling loudly and hands coming up to clutch around Wing’s thighs, playing with the lacy yellow garters and trying to pull him closer. The knight’s smile widened, and he released his equipment, covers snapping back eagerly, spike sliding through the lace-edged opening in his panties. Drift stared at the medium-length but thick, ribbed spike with glassy eyes, taking in the red and gold accents and biolights along the shaft, and the speck of gold right at the tip, surrounding the slit. “N-nice mods,” he groaned.

Wing smiled proudly, shifting to slide his spike up and down through the lips of Drift’s awaiting valve, coating himself in the ex-Decepticon’s transfluid, lace rubbing deliciously against their equipment. “Thanks,” he purred, and gave a sly wink.

“Got them done just for you.”

Drift keened as Wing prodded the entrance to his valve, pushing just the tip past the opening. As the knight began to slowly slide the tip of his spike in and out of the valve, easing in a little deeper with each languid thrust, Drift slid his digits up the jet’s sides and chest to splay his hands across the polished surface of the most beautiful flight panels he’d ever seen. Hell, all of Wing was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was like seeing the sun for the first time, after living your whole life in darkness, not even knowing what light was.

As their pelvic plating finally clinked together and the spike nosed his ceiling node, Drift moaned, valve calipers cycling down to clutch at the intrusion. Wing smiled down at him, his optics glowing brighter than any sun.

Yeah. Wing was definitely his light.

The knight steadily increased the pace, Drift bouncing slightly with each thrust, scraping his digits over the sensitive wings, causing the flier to gasp, shivering and clutching at Drift’s hips, his legs splayed wide and sticky with transfluid. Wing thrust in deep, striking his sparkmate’s ceiling node over and over again, occasionally pausing and grinding his spike up further to rub against the opening to Drift’s transfluid tank. The speedster shuddered in intense pleasure, moaning unabashedly and canting his hips upward, hungry for more. The harder and faster Wing drove into the ex-Decepticon, the louder their silly bell collars jingled, but neither of them were paying attention. The sopping lace of Drift’s underwear tickled along the sides of Wing’s white-and-red lighted spike, causing the jet to groan and wiggle, his hips grinding against Drift’s, who gasped as Wing’s shifting movements hit more nodes within his valve.

“Hhh...Primus, Wing. Don’t stop…”

Vents cycling to their highest setting, the knight leaned down to whisper in his sparkmate’s audio, “Mm, you’re enjoying this, huh? Was a...ah! A good idea after all, hm? Mmf…”

Drift whimpered, his spinal struts arching off the berth, hands maddening down Wing’s back and aft. All he could do in responses was nod frantically, his valve calipers tightly squeezing the jet’s thick spike, it’s ribbed texture causing him to cry out his lover’s name.

“Wing!” He gasped, feeling as if the atmosphere had disappeared from the room. “Hngh...p-please, Wing, ghh...keep...keep going. Ungh…”

Wing smiled, pressing a searing kiss to Drift’s lips, and then breathing hotly against them, “Don’t worry, Drift. I won’t stop until you’re nice and full...full of my transfluid, till you can’t hold anymore, the cincher too tight for your bloated belly… and it leaks down your thighs…” He gave a particularly hard thrust, pulling Drift’s hips tight into his own, grinding their panels together almost painfully. Drift sobbed, overwhelmed with pleasure from the heat and friction, coolant evaporating from his frame into a fine steam that hung around them like a mist, shrouding them from the rest of the world.

“W-Wing...please...I’m gonna o-overload…”

The swordsmech kissed the speedster’s face over and over again, increasing the tempo of his thrusts, a hard knot forming at the base of his spike. “Overload whenever you need to, Drift...aah!” Wing let out a high keen as Drift’s valve calipers cycled down hard to milk the knight’s spike, nearing his climax, and Wing thrust as far up into Drift as he could, the swollen bulge at the base of his spike lodging just beyond the rim of the ex-Decepticon’s valve so that all he could do was try to push in deeper, the tip of his spike jabbing the cap to Drift’s transfluid tank and his ceiling node once, twice, three times, until Drift arched completely off the berth, hands gripping Wing’s aft tightly and keening his name in a way that set off Wing’s own overload, the knot at the base of his spike unraveling.

Several hard bursts of transfluid shot out from his spike, pummeling the back of Drift’s valve, drawing out his overload as Wing thrust through the climax. He kept going, slamming his hips forward into Drift’s, his paint transferring over to Drift’s plating, leaving delicious strips of white against darker armor. His spike continued to pump transfluid into the willing valve, overflowing by now, Wing’s overload only intensified by seeing his fluids leaking out of Drift’s swollen valve down onto the berth. The speedster cried out as his abdominal plating shifted outwards slightly to make room for all of Wing’s transfluid despite the cincher, making his insides feel completely stuffed.

As he continued to thrust, Wing reached out to gently press down on Drift’s bulging belly, causing more transfluid to burst from Drift’s valve, spraying across Wing’s panel and waist. Drift keened, one of the hands on Wing’s aft suddenly sliding forward to plunge three fingers into the knight’s valve. Due to the unexpected stimulation, Wing came again _hard_ on Drift’s dextrous fingers, his hips slowing into more of a rocking-rubbing motion, spike jammed into the back of the speedster’s valve, holding all that transfluid inside of Drift and rubbing and pressing on his swollen belly and slightly loosening the ties on the speedster’s waist cincher. He carefully tipped his aft back, letting Drift fingerfuck him, both of them moaning loudly from the sensory overload.

“Hnngh...told you I’d fill you up...your tank filled with my transfluid, your valve stuffed with my spike…”

Drift overloaded again, practically scraping his fingers down the mesh lining of Wing’s valve. The flier’s vocalizer spat static, and he leaned down to catch Drift’s mouth in a fierce, fiery kiss.

For a few moments, as they came down from their climaxes, Drift continued to lightly finger Wing’s valve, and in turn, the jet’s spike twitched every now and again, and he’d rub against the ex-Decepticon’s ceiling node, transfluid dribbling out to collect with the rest of his load in Drift’s bulging tank. He continued to rub the speedster’s full belly, more gently now, smiling dazedly at the soft mewls of sated pleasure Drift would let escape his lips.

“Primus, you’re beautiful,” Wing breathed.

All Drift could do was smile, carefully rubbing his hips against Wing’s, enjoying the over-full feeling in his nether regions, playing with Wing’s fingers with his free hand as they caressed the bulge on his lower abdomen, and sighed happily. “That felt unbelievably good.”

Wing smiled and whispered, “Mission accomplished.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written in years, so I hope it's alright. I was dying of dehydration, being SO THIRSTY for top!Wing, so I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing. Comments and critiques are welcome; I'd love to hear your feedback!!  
> (Also for anyone worried, this is my new AO3 account, if you liked, bookmarked or commented on the other version of this fic, feel free to do so here because I will be deleting the old one!)


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